


Bittersweet

by isawrightless



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawrightless/pseuds/isawrightless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes a deep breath, stands up and heads to the bedroom, opening the door with little ceremony and finding Tim wearing black sweatpants and a ratty INXS t-shirt, his hair is messy and wet and his face is clean, all that blood wiped away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

Their fights are ugly. There’s no sugarcoating it. Jason can be an asshole and Tim is downright mean and they both poke at the wounds that hurt the most, wounds that one else in the world can understand. It’s silly and erratic, this thing they do, because in the end it’s all out of concern.

The ugliness only shows itself when Jason ends up with a bullet wound on his right shoulder, and his solution is to ignore it and go back right back to the fight, kicking and punching and bringing their enemies down and losing blood in the process. Jason can take it, Tim knows this, but he also knows that Jason has bled enough for two lifetimes.

So a tiny, stupid, useless argument about this turns into a shouting match that goes nowhere and leaves them on silent treatment mode, which in turn makes them go out on patrol at different parts of the city, their hearts beating a bit faster because even though they’re worried as hell, they’re also too stubborn to wave the white flag first.

That’s exactly why Tim doesn’t say a word when Jason comes back to their hideout, exactly why Jason opens his mouth but closes it a second after when he sees the dried blood on Tim’s face, trailing down his nose, and the red, angry bruises on his shoulder.

There’s no doubt in his mind that Tim won whatever fight he got himself into, but there’s a small amount of guilt hammering in his head, making him think that maybe, just maybe, if they weren’t so stupid, he could have taken some of the hits too, could have eased Tim’s pain a little.

He doesn’t know why he thinks that considering they’ve spent most of their lives patrolling without each other and handling everything just fine, but something’s changed, and when he realizes this is probably what Tim feels when he comes home in the same state, a little bit of shame takes over, and he feels like a jerk.

Tim moves past him, shirtless and bleeding from a cut on his right side, cold and hurt, and goes to their bedroom, closing the door behind him. Jason sits on the couch, cradling his head in his hands for a second and then looking up at the closed door.

He knows what he needs to do, but has no idea how to go about it. Back when he was just Robin, apologizing was never his strongest suit, maybe because some of the accusations against him have been a bit misdirected. He was an angry kid, but then again, every damn kid that grows up in Gotham is.

He was never unfocused, and if he took things too far was because he couldn’t stop punching a guy who was willing to get poor, innocent children hooked on drugs go away with all of his teeth intact. You went too far, Jason--Bruce’s voice always rings in his head and resentment clouds his judgment. It doesn’t matter that they are on better terms now, some parts of a relationship are damaged beyond repair and Bruce’s lack of trust in him still hurts. And so, apologizing is not exactly his thing.

Tim thinks it’s about pride, and yeah, it’s a small part, but if he apologizes for how he is, then what’s left? He knows Tim trusts him, though, trusts him more than he trusts himself and that’s new and scary and he’s not that used to it yet.

He takes a deep breath, stands up and heads to the bedroom, opening the door with little ceremony and finding Tim wearing black sweatpants and a ratty INXS t-shirt, his hair is messy and wet and his face is clean, all that blood wiped away.

Tim takes one glance at him and then sits on the bed, bringing his hand to his forehead, trying to fight off a headache and then reaching out to the aspirin bottle on the nightstand, grabbing a couple and swallowing them down. Jason sits next to him, and Tim eyes him for a minute.

“What?” Tim questions.

“Seriously, wha-” Jason stops him with a kiss, long and deep, and it’s a cliche, Jason knows it’s a cliche, but it’s also the way Tim melts against him, the way he tastes and how he kisses back with the same intensity.

Soon enough Tim’s fingers are digging into Jason’s leather jacket as he drags his lips, leaving a trail of kisses down Tim’s neck, burying himself into the crook of his neck, sucking at the skin, leaving his mark, his stubble scratching Tim’s cheeks as he whispers in his ears: “I’m sorry,” and he means it, he does, and Tim responds by smiling, closing his eyes and giving in.

Enough with the unnecessary bleeding.


End file.
